Maps Read Online Free PDF

his desk next to Benji, a few minutes early for class.
    As other students trickled into math class right on their heels, a very uneasy looking Lane was amongst them. And a full head taller than anyone else, to boot.
    Maps froze.
    He was a deer caught in a set of high beams, a crab caught in a fisherman’s net, a Canadian caught in a hockey debate.
    There was no escape.
    He couldn’t run away from Lane in school. Well, he could, but it would result in skipping every math class and his mom would probably have something to say about that.
    But Lane was a year older than Maps and in the grade above him. There must be some kind of mistake; he must’ve been in the wrong room.
    In the three weeks since Maps had been avoiding Lane, he’d seen Lane around school, but since Lane was in another grade and often spent most of his time with like-minded meatheads, he was easily avoidable.
    Of course, Lane decided to flop his gigantic self down in the desk right behind Maps. Maps kept staring straight ahead of him as though the whiteboard in the front of the classroom now held the answers to the meaning of life.
    “Maps?” Benji and Lane both said in unison. Maps slowly swiveled in his chair to first look at his best friend seated next to him, then to the neighbor he’d been trying his hardest to avoid.
    “Greetings, Earthling,” Maps choked out. Lane blinked. Benji started coughing, and turned in his seat with a shit-eating grin on his face to look at his new neighbor. “You must be Lane.”
    “Why must I be?” Lane asked.
    “I’ve heard so much about you,” Benji replied.
    “Benji, shut up,” Maps managed to snap at his friend, whispering under his breath.
    “Oh. You’re Benji, then, right? Maps’. . .uh, boyfriend?” Lane said with an weary smile on his face. Maps dropped his forehead down on his desk.
    “Uhhhh.” Benji turned to Maps with a scowl on his face.
    Maps lifted his head and spun around to look at Lane. “Why are you here, anyway? Aren’t you graduating this year?”
    “Yeah, but, uh, I’m not so good with math.” Lane cringed when he said the word math , almost like he was in pain.
    “Well, just so you know, I’m not letting you cheat off of me, if that’s why you sat here . . .”
    “Why would I try to cheat off you?” Lane asked, genuinely looking surprised. “I wouldn’t learn much that way, would I?”
    Benji gave Maps one of those is this guy for real? looks. It was Maps’ favorite of Benji’s looks.
    “All right everyone, settle down.”
    Their math teacher, Mr. Rogers—no cardigan intended—walked into the room with his usual annoyed expression present on his face. “I know it’s the first day of this semester, but that doesn’t mean we can slack off. And to prove my point, we’re having a little pop quiz. Now, before any of you give me any grief, it’s just for fun. You won’t be graded on this, but it’s to let me know where the majority of you are academically.”
    A collective groan sounded in the classroom. Mr. Rogers—the jerk—even had the nerve to look like he actually meant the word fun when he’d said it. But Maps wasn’t worried. Math came easily to him like girls to Adam Levine.
    Mr. Rogers handed out tests to the first person in each row and asked that they be handed back. When Maps turned slightly to hand Lane his tests, the look on Lane’s face momentarily startled Maps. Lane was absolutely horrified. He was white as a marshmallow. Well, as white as a white marshmallow, anyway. Maps never trusted the colored ones.
    “Are you okay?” Maps whispered.
    Lane looked up. His pupils were smaller than the freckles on his nose, and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. Maps thought he even heard a few quiet swears slip passed Lane’s lips.
    Oh god. Maps hoped he didn’t go full Hulk.
    Maps was completely useless when anyone cried. He usually just awkwardly started laughing, hoping the person was faking it and it would all be some elaborate joke. Nine